


Not Your Average Groupie

by colazitron



Category: Star Trek RPF, Tokio Hotel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-23
Updated: 2010-02-23
Packaged: 2017-11-27 08:19:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's this guy coming on to Anton after a show and somehow Anton finds himself taking the boy home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Your Average Groupie

**Not Your Average Groupie**

Whooping and laughter and a few hearty claps on his back accompanied Anton’s stumbling exit from the make-shift ‘dressing room’ into the back corridor of the club they had been playing at.

“Awesome show, dude,” Dave grinned and ruffled his hair in a far too motherly gesture.

“Hell, yeah. We rocked,” Anton grinned back and reached into his back pocket for the pack of cigarettes there, automatically offering it to his friend and band mate.

“Gonna go check out that chick who took her top off during ‘Zoey’. You coming with?” Dave announced, fishing a cigarette out of the pack and a lighter out of his own pocket.

Anton gave a slow smile in answer, calmly lighting up his own cigarette and taking a deep and satisfying drag, before leaning back against the wall of the corridor. The heavy beat of whatever was playing in the club vibrated through the walls and down Anton’s spine like an anesthetized heart beat.

“Nah, man, I gotta breathe for a few moments. And you need a head start anyway, if you wanna score with that babe.”

Dave snorted amusedly.

“Like you’re competition, kid.”

“You’re not that much older. Also, I’m the world famous actor in this scenario.”

“Good thing to know you stayed grounded.”

“Ah, you know me; I’m modest.”

That snort turned into full out laughter.

“Sure. Well, see you later, Mr. World-Famous-Actor.”

“Later, man.” Anton lifted a hand in greeting and took another drag of the cigarette. He let the smoke curl around his tongue for a moment, before leaning his head back and exhaling quietly. The music and beat sounded frantic as Dave opened the door. The moment it shut, it took Anton’s eyes with it and the dull beat went back to being soothing.

The clacking of heels on the ground was in time with the beat. It made Anton smile and take another drag before he realized that that meant he wasn’t alone in the corridor.

The beat was slow, deliberate and Anton took a moment to imagine the long slender legs belonging to the sure steps. Bare, because even though it wasn’t exactly the hottest time of year, it was still rather hot inside the club. And besides, frilly miniskirts looked best when they grazed against bare thighs. Maybe a tattoo would peek out between her skirt and form fitting tee.

Bracing himself for the reality that would inevitably not mirror his fantasy, Anton forced his eyes open.

Brown eyes, framed by dark lashes and even darker eye liner met his, a mischievous kind of amusement making them sparkle with life. Straight nose, full pink lips, high cheek bones. The dark hair was pulled back and fixed to stay in place with a few rather girly looking twists, but the guy wore them with such nonchalance, Anton didn’t think it strange for even a moment.

“Can I have one of those?” he asked, his voice a calm kind of low with a promise of hidden depths. He had an accent Anton couldn’t quite place. Definitely not American though.

“Sure,” Anton replied, offering the pack while bringing up his own cigarette to take another drag, still kind of mesmerized by the seemingly effortless beauty the guy gave off in waves. Well, growing up in Hollywood had taught him two things at least. First, that kind of effortless beauty was always preceded by a lot of effort. But second, underneath that there had to be some sort of charm for it to work. He was intrigued.

The stranger pulled out a cigarette with obviously practiced ease and brought it up to his lips. His nails were painted black. Leaning in, he touched the end of his cigarette to the one hanging from the corner of Anton’s mouth. Taking a deep breath he lit it up before stepping back and leaning against the wall opposite Anton.

Well, at least his legs did go on for miles.

The guy inhaled lazily and taxed Anton with a smug look as he exhaled.

“Like what you see?”

Anton did. He’d met his fair share of really attractive men – working on Star Trek was eye opening in that respect – but none of them had been quite as … pretty as this one.

“Do I know you?” he asked back instead of giving an answer. It provoked a slow grin to pull on his opposite’s lips. This guy’s constant amusement was stretching Anton’s nerves.

“You mean, have we met? No. Is it possible you’ve seen my face before? Yeah.”

Anton would have rolled his eyes at the obvious pseudo-mysteriousness but he didn’t want to be that plainly rude and settled for raising a skeptical eyebrow. Maybe the guy modeled?

“You famous or what?” he asked, still irritated by the guy’s continued amusement. He started to feel like the stranger was laughing at him. Anton’s irritation though seemed only to amuse the guy more.

“A little,” he answered with a secretive smile that made it look like that ‘little’ actually meant ‘a whole lot’.

“What do you want?” Anton asked, taking an angry drag from his cigarette.

“I want your dick in my ass,” the guy answered, still calmly looking at Anton, bringing the cigarette he had been given up in between his lips leisurely.

Anton felt his eyebrows shoot up. After a split second of complete shock, he internally checked that his jaw had not actually dropped to the floor and his cigarette had not fallen out of his slackened fingers. He considered that the guy could be joking but from the way he leaned there, calmly waiting for Anton to answer, his endless legs crossed casually, it didn’t look like he was. Which meant that he was serious. Which… whoa.

“No sweet-talking from you, huh?” Anton asked back, taking a last drag before throwing the cigarette down onto the floor. As he toed it out and exhaled, he realized that he was actually considering.

“You don’t want me to sweet-talk,” the guy grinned. “You want me to bend over. And you want me to bend you over.”

That, Anton did not know what to say to. So he didn’t.

The guy lifted an obviously inviting eye brow, trying to prompt Anton back into talking, probably into accepting, but really… Anton was starting to wonder whether those were really cigarettes he had been smoking all day, because… things like this didn’t actually happen, right? They were scripted. Lines he could have said had someone called ‘action’ or given him a sort of cue. And then he could have leaned here and be suave or coy or disgusted or anything. But without direction? In real life? Anton had no idea how to handle that.

“I can ask my brother to join, if you’re into the whole twin thing,” the guy suggested, almost shrugging one careless shoulder.

A moment ago, Anton had thought that nothing could surprise him anymore that evening but this he really hadn’t expected. And while there was definitely something really appealing about the idea of two of these strange creatures, one was really more than enough for Anton. Not that – oh hell. He was doomed.

“You’d do your brother, just so I’d do you?” he had to ask. He didn’t have any brothers, but imagining having sex with Dave even was definitely too weird to even consider. The guy though – and he really needed to ask for his name at some point – just smiled slyly.

“Not like I haven’t before.”

Right. That, Anton wasn’t sure whether or not to believe. On the one hand, why would he lie? But on the other… his brother? It was only later that it occurred to Anton that he probably should have been slightly more disgusted and slightly less intrigued by the idea. As it was, he took in the brown cowboy kind of boots, the endless, jeans-clad legs and the tee-shirt that fit exactly without being tastelessly tight under the black leather jacket and found himself subconsciously wetting his lips. Oh yeah, doomed.

“Meet me out back in fifteen. Alone.” He pushed himself off of the wall and pulled open the door to their ‘dressing-room’ before he could change his mind. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the guy smile.

Anton couldn’t have said how the following fifteen minutes had passed. He wasn’t even sure whether it were, in fact, fifteen minutes or whether it had been more or less. But at some point, he found himself in the parking lot behind the club, a vague memory of having somehow talked himself out of partying replaying in his mind, his guitar case in one hand and his jacket in the other. The guy from before was leaning against the wall next to the door, texting. He looked up shortly and flashed Anton a quick smile.

“My place or yours?” Anton asked, closing the door and setting down his guitar case to slip on the jacket.

“Yours. Couldn’t find my brother so I’m guessing he took a girl home. I texted him not to wait up.”

“What if I had changed my mind?” Anton found himself slightly intrigued by this guy’s self-assuredness (presumptuousness?).

“I’d have been heart-broken, horny and homeless. For the night,” the guy grinned and shut his phone.

“Good thing I didn’t then,” Anton grinned back and shortly wondered why he wasn’t nervous or jittery or anything of the sort.

“Really good,” the other one smiled and doused his voice in honey. It made Anton want to dip his fingers into it and taste it. So before his thoughts could make the transition from sexy to gory he changed the subject.

“We’re gonna have to take a cab, I came here with a friend,” he explained.

“Fine by me,” the stranger shrugged. How did you ask someone for their name when you had already consented to fucking them?

“C’mon, let’s check out front first,” Anton suggested, picked up his guitar case and very nearly reached for the other’s hand. The guy seemed to have noticed, if the sidelong glance he shot him was any indication. Instead of going through with the motion Anton had aborted though, he merely offered his hand for Anton to shake.

“I’m Bill, by the way.”

“Anton,” Anton answered and gave Bill’s hand a little shake.

“I know,” Bill grinned as they turned on the road to head to the entrance of the club.

“You know who I am?”

“Anton Yelchin, 20 years old, actor. You were born in Russia and your parents moved here when you were six months old. They were figure skaters; your dad’s name is Victor and your mum’s Irina. Right?” Bill listed, grinning. Anton raised a skeptical eye brow. Then he stepped up to a cab and after asking the driver whether he was free, held open the door for Bill.

“Are you a fan or something? Cause that’d be kind of creepy.”

Bill snorted, obviously amused, while climbing into the back seat of the cab.

“No, I’m not a desperate groupie. I googled your band while I was waiting and when it said you were an actor, I checked you out on imdb to see whether I had seen any of your movies. I haven’t.” He shrugged, slightly apologetic and moved closer to the window so Anton’s guitar case would fit between them.

“God bless the internet, huh?” Anton remarked and gave the driver his address.

“Absolutely.”

“Well, now that we’ve cleared up who I am, who are you?”

For the first time that evening Bill’s smile seemed to be a little thin.

“I’m a singer for this band,” he answered.

“Cool. Are you signed yet?”

“Yeah, we… we’ve released our third album last fall.”

“Wow, you guys must be really good.” And still Anton didn’t recognize him in any way. Well, three albums didn’t necessarily mean that they were that widely known, but still… Bill seemed the type to make sure he was unique and memorable.

“Nah, we’re just… different, I guess. In a way. And in Germany it’s a little easier to get a record deal than here. Not as much competition,” Bill explained, his thin smile freezing on his face in such a perfect imitation of a real smile Anton would have fallen for it for sure, if he weren’t an actor and trained to notice the tension of the shoulders and the quick clenching of the fists, so it wouldn’t happen to him when he was in front of a camera.

“You’re from Germany? Your English is really good, man,” he complimented, just to get Bill’s mind off of whatever was upsetting him.

“Just because you have this prejudice of all Germans being terrible at English. Which I really was until we got the record deal here and had to do all the interviews and radio shows and all that. And since my band mates are kinda lazy asses they went all _you’re the front man you have to do the talking_ and… well. That resulted in my English getting better while theirs basically still sucks.”

Didn’t really seem like he minded the talking though.

“You’re from Germany and you got a record deal here? You really are famous, aren’t you?”

Bill shrugged, lifting a suggestive eye brow.

“You could google me.”

“I will,” Anton promised and pulled his iPhone out of his pocket. This thing really was the best toy yet.

“You gonna give me your last name or the name of your band at least?” he asked, looking up at his grinning, but silent, companion.

“Nah, you know enough to find me.”

“What, I just enter ‘Bill, Germany, band’ and that’s enough?” he asked, incredulous. No way would that work. But Bill seemed pretty sure it would and just smiled at him, the amusement back in his face.

“Yeah.”

“Not at all conceited, huh?” Anton remarked and typed in the key words.

“It’s not conceited if it’s true,” Bill pointed out.

And true it was. (Even so, Anton still thought it was also a little conceited). The number of results those key words gave him were outrageous. The first one was a link to Wikipedia. Huh. Helpful.

“We’re here, fellows,” the cabby interrupted his thoughts. “That’ll be 17.40.”

Anton absentmindedly handed Bill his phone, dug a twenty out of his pocket and gave it to the driver.

“Keep the change,” he told him, grabbed his guitar case and climbed out of the cab. Bill followed him, scrolling the text on the phone. Pulling his keys out of his jacket pocket, Anton suddenly felt a nervous shiver run down his back. Reality was such a bitch when it hit you.

“ _Tokio Hotel is a German band founded in Magdeburg, Germany in 2001 by singer Bill Kaulitz_ – huh, it doesn’t say our age, I’ll just add it; I’m 20 – _guitarist Tom Kaulitz_ – seeing as he’s my twin, it’s no surprise he’s also 20 – _drummer Gustav Schäfer_ – he’s 21 – _and bassist Georg Listing_ – he’s 22. _The quartet have scored four number one singles and have released three number one albums in their native country, selling nearly 5 million CDs and DVDs there. After recording an unreleased demo-CD under the name "Devilish" and having their contract with Sony BMG Germany terminated, the band released their first German-language album, Schrei, as Tokio Hotel on Universal Music Germany in 2005_ ,” Bill read and followed Anton into the house without second thought.

“Huh. Bla bla, more albums, America, tours, awards… nothing interesting. Personally, I like our first EMA and VMA respectively best,” he added and handed Anton his phone back, before bending down to pull off his boots.

“When did you sleep?” Anton asked, astonished, reaching for the light switch and stepping out of his shoes.

“Can’t remember,” Bill shrugged. Both of them blinked against the harsh brightness of the light for a few moments before their eyes had adjusted to it. Bill looked around curiously and Anton felt his heart beat speed up, awaiting some sort of judgment; about the house, the fact that he still lived with his parents, anything really. None came.

“In the spirit of fairness I still need to tell you about my parents, right? My mum’s name is Simone, she’s a painter. My dad’s name is Jörg, he drives trucks. My parents got divorced when Tom and I were six and my mum remarried last year; a guitar teacher she’s been with forever called Gordon. Where’s your room?”

Bill turned around to look at him so abruptly Anton just inclined his head towards the stairs.

“Upstairs.”

“Stairs, huh?” Bill acknowledged and spared the staircase a calculating look.

“I’m afraid those are gonna have to wait,” he declared before stepping up right into Anton’s personal bubble. Anton had time to blink once before an arm around his lower back pulled him forward to crash into Bill’s fragile but surprisingly solid body. Bill’s other hand slipped into the back pocket of Anton’s jeans, while Anton barely registered reaching up with his own free arm to dig his hand into Bill’s hair and pull his head down to meet his.

Bill kissed as directly as he talked. His lips claimed Anton’s without overwhelming them as he backed him up against the wall of the foyer. His hands left their original positions slowly, fanning out over Anton’s back and coming around to the front to slide up his chest. Anton opened his lips to Bill’s and eagerly met his tongue with his own. The foreign feeling of something strangely smooth and seemingly spherical made him break the kiss, surprised, but Bill just followed his head and whispered “piercing” before reclaiming Anton’s mouth.

This wasn’t the first time he had made out with a guy but it was definitely the first time it felt so completely natural to be doing it. With everyone else there had always been this little voice in the back of his head, asking him why the hell he was making out with this guy (on a few occasions he had heard that voice while kissing a girl, too). But with Bill, there was absolutely nothing about this that seemed off. Bill was gorgeous and seemed nice. And Anton kind of wanted to get into his pants, so why the hell wouldn’t he kiss him?

Trying to lift his other arm to wind that around Bill’s… well, around any part of him actually, Anton registered the weight of the guitar case he was still holding on to. For a moment he considered detaching himself from Bill so he could set it down, but then Bill did this amazing thing with his tongue that Anton didn’t quite comprehend but that coaxed a contented sound somewhere between a moan, a sigh and a purr out of him anyway. Bill’s hands slid back around and followed the trail of Anton’s spine up under his jacket and over his t-shirt as far as they could, Anton pushing himself away from the wall so Bill could reach all the way up in between his shoulder blades. His own hand was busy pulling strands of Bills hair out of their restraints – something that couldn’t have been all pleasant for Bill – so he could run his fingers through it.

Then one of Bill’s hands crept further up still, out his collar and grabbed a fist full of curls to pull his head back.

“God, I want you,” Bill whispered, his voice hoarse and shooting straight down to Anton’s groin.

“Shit,” he whispered back, feeling Bill’s open mouth slide wetly down the exposed collar of his neck, latching on to his Adam’s apple and sucking on it lightly. A gasped breath escaped him and he pushed his hips forward into Bill’s thigh.

“C’mon. Upstairs,” Anton urged, pulling at the other’s hair lightly.

“Or I could just do you against the wall,” Bill suggested, biting into the juncture of Anton’s neck and shoulder, before kissing it soothingly. His second arm had lowered to pull Anton even more firmly against him.

“I think I’d let you,” Anton groaned, as Bill’s mouth climbed his neck to playfully bite at his ear lobe.

“You’re cute,” Bill smiled and let go of the hair in his hand to kiss the shorter boy deeply, both his hands holding on to Anton’s face. Anton in turn let his hand drop down to brush his fingers over the sliver of skin in between Bill’s jeans and t-shirt. Bill’s stomach quivered and caused a smile to bloom on Anton’s lips.

“You ticklish?” he asked, his question being swallowed by another kiss Bill pressed to his lips.

“A little,” he responded. “But that’s really not the most interesting thing about me you could be finding out tonight.”

Anton groaned his answer into Bill’s mouth and sucked the other’s tongue into his own before pushing him back. Bill though held on to his upper arms and tried to pull him forward again, not liking the idea of separation all too much. In an act of (mindless) desperation, Anton pulled his guitar case in between the two of them, registering his action with about the same amount of confusion as Bill.

“Is something wrong?” the dark haired singer asked, letting go of one of Anton’s arms and loosening his grip on the other.

“No!” Anton hurried to assure. “Just… we’ll never make it to my room at this rate.”

A sheepish grin spread out over Bill’s lips at that and he took a step back, letting go of Anton completely.

“Well, lead the way then,” he invited.

Anton took a deep breath and nodded his head to himself once to collect his thoughts. Then he picked up the guitar case and crossed the foyer to the stairs. It was only when he noticed the missing second pair of footsteps that he turned around, already half the way up to the second storey. Bill was standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at him.

“Have a change of heart?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant but feeling rather nervous about it.

“No. Just enjoying the view,” Bill answered.

“Oh?” Anton raised a flirty eye brow, climbing a step backwards. “Well, the view’s about to get a whole lot better, but I’m afraid you’re gonna miss it if you stay down there.”

“Will I?” Bill asked back, one foot already on the bottom most step. Anton just put on a pitying face, like he had just told Bill his canary had died and nodded while taking another step backward. The Cheshire grin that spread out over Bill’s lips reminded Anton that currently he was the canary and that Bill had every intention of getting him.

“Well, I can’t refuse an offer like that. Especially not after you went to the trouble of inviting me to your home. That’d just be impolite, don’t you think? My mama taught me better than that.”

Somehow that shouldn’t have been sexy at all. But the way Bill stalked up the stairs, his hips swinging from side to side just the slightest bit, his smile still so predatory and sure, Anton found himself catching his breath shortly, before deciding to retaliate. No one would ever say that he took anything lying down.

“You’d better keep up then,” he advised, before turning around and running up the remaining steps. Bill’s pace picked up immediately behind him and Anton bit his lip to keep the insane giggle that threatened to escape him in as he took off down the dark corridor. It was an unfair advantage he had over Bill, he knew, but who ever said he wouldn’t fight dirty?

He burst into his room and turned on the light, leaving the door wide open so the light would fall outside into the corridor and leaned his guitar case against the wall carefully. Just as he whirled around, Bill stepped into the room and closed the door, leaning against the inside. For a moment nothing happened. Then Anton lifted his eye brow in invitation and seemingly prompted Bill into talking.

“I’m here about a view..?” he more asked than stated, in the same way you’d ask for someone you’ve never met before. There was a challenging twinkle in his eyes that dared Anton to continue. Never letting his eyes leave Bill’s, Anton reached for the zipper of his jacket and quickly pulled it down, letting the jacket fall off his shoulders carelessly. Bill’s eyes were still staring into his and so he reached for the hem of his plain white tee-shirt and pulled that up over his head, the silver chain and it’s various pendants tinkling softly, letting it fall to his feet as well. Still continuing their staring contest, he toed off his socks, too. It was only when he took a step forward that Bill broke their gaze and let his eyes roam over Anton’s exposed chest and arms.

“Like the view?” Anton asked, even though it was pretty obvious from Bill’s unabashed staring and dilated pupils that he did. His gaze when it met Anton’s could only be called smoldering.

“Oh, yeah,” he growled and reached for Anton to pull him up against him. The kiss he pressed against Anton’s lips was hungrier and wilder than the ones they had shared before and transmitted a certain kind of urgency that reminded Anton of the far too many clothes Bill was still wearing.

“You’re over-dressed,” he murmured, before pulling at Bill’s lips with his teeth, enjoying the heart-felt groan it earned him. Bill’s jacket sounded heavy as it hit the floor. Anton let his hands slide over Bill’s small shoulders and the short sleeves of his tee-shirt, down over his bare arms. With his eyes closed, Bill almost felt like a girl he was so fragile. When he reached his wrists, Bill turned his hands up, grasping Anton’s and pulling them to the hem of his shirt.

“You do it,” he whispered, lifting his arms. So Anton did. He grabbed onto the fabric and slowly pulled it up. Bill bent his head forward a little and Anton marveled at how a guy as tall as Bill could be as small at the same time. There was no excess muscle (or fat) on him anywhere. There were tattoos though. What seemed to be a star low on the right side of his abdomen, writing on his lower left arm and down his left side. Anton traced the one on Bill’s arm with a finger.

“What’s it say?”

“‘Freedom’,” Bill answered. “The ‘89’ is the year of my birth. I got it for my 18th birthday.”

Somehow Anton got the feeling that he should not inquire after this further. This seemed to be a conversation for another time. A time with natural light and a less obvious erection pressing against the inside of his jeans. He opted to skip asking about the other ones and leaned in to brush their lips together.

“I could get a matching one for my 21st,” he suggested with a grin and added, “It’s crazy how subjective the idea of freedom can be, isn’t it?” before sealing Bill’s lips with his own and robbing him of the opportunity to answer. Apparently Bill liked this alternative better than answering anyway though, if the way he practically devoured Anton’s mouth was any indication. Winding both arms around Bill’s neck, Anton pushed his hands into Bill’s hair, looking for any and all hair clips he could find, pulling them out of the black strands and dropping them onto the floor. Bill meanwhile had wrapped his arms around Anton’s back, one hand tracing his spine, the other kneading the flesh in between his shoulder blades.

Anton couldn’t have said whether they had been standing there for ten second or ten minutes but at some point Bill’s mouth started exploring territory other than Anton’s lips and Anton thought that his cue to reach behind Bill for the light switch. The room fell into sudden darkness and made Anton suddenly aware that he hadn’t pulled the curtains shut. Then again, it was probably sometime between one in the morning and dawn and the probability that the Liebermans had stayed up that long just to peer into his bedroom window was vanishingly small.

So he just hooked his fingers into the belt hoops of Bill’s jeans and began pulling him from the door, walking backwards through the room towards his bed. Bill’s hands in turn stopped their ministrations and merely rested on Anton’s upper arms, his mouth returning to Anton’s to give him a quick kiss.

“We’re gonna need some light though,” Bill whispered.

“Are we?” Anton asked back, suddenly rather glad that Bill couldn’t make out the uneasiness in his face, even though he could probably hear it in his voice.

“Have you ever done this before? With a guy, I mean?” Bill asked in turn and Anton was glad he didn’t do anything silly like trying to comfort him with a kiss or his hands.

“No,” Anton answered honestly and for a moment he wondered whether that would be it. Whether Bill would step back, put on his clothes and leave him because he’d be too much trouble. Instead he just pinched Anton’s shoulder lightly.

“Then it’d really be better if we had some sort of light,” he advised and let go of Anton when he felt him lean out of his hold. Anton stretched back to grab the switch of his bed side lamp and once again bathed the room in light. When he turned back around to face Bill again, he reached for the hem of Anton’s jeans, hooking his fingers in between his skin and the fabric and pulling Anton against his body.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked and Anton decided not to feel offended but thankful that he asked and nodded.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Good,” Bill smiled, more gently than the predatory smile from before and undid the first button of Anton’s jeans. Anton let his head drop forward to lean against Bill’s shoulder and looked down at the second, the third, the fourth and finally the fifth button being undone. He could feel a blush he hadn’t felt since his actual first time creep up his cheeks – and it were moments like this he really hated being pale. So he just pressed his face into Bill’s skin and reached for the other’s jeans.

In a very weird way it was sort of surprising how easy it was to open them. Pop the button, pull down the zipper. Not that there should be anything more to it, but somehow Anton had expected… something. Not just jeans opening, anyway.

Spurred on by this – tiny – victory, Anton made to push them down past Bill’s hips, but was stopped, by one of Bill’s hands and a low “wait”. That did make Anton lift his head to look at Bill, a little confused.

“Nothing’s wrong, just…” Bill started and reached into his back pocket, pulling something out and dropping it onto the bed. A condom and a small packet of lube. That was… real. The kind of real Anton had probably been anticipating just moments ago with the jeans.

“You can still say no at any given moment,” Bill reminded him, but didn’t wait for an answer before he traced a finger down the V of Anton’s open pants over the prominent bulge in his boxers. A very convincing argument, Anton had to allow and merely shook his head, before reaching for the dark blue fabric again and pushing it down.

Bill’s hips were tiny. And his legs bordered on scrawny. But somehow Anton couldn’t have imagined it any other way. His skin was soft. He didn’t shave but there was barely any hair on him anyway. Giving himself an internal push, Anton knelt and slowly peeled the (far too) skinny jeans further down Bill’s legs. He didn’t look up to see Bill’s reaction, but merely tugged at the fabric. Bill held on to his shoulder to step out of the pants entirely and Anton used the opportunity to get rid of his socks too.

Standing back up, he was helped by Bill’s hands that reached for his arms and pulled him up and into a kiss. The soft fabric of his black boxer briefs was pulled taut over Bill’s erection where it was pressing into Anton’s abdomen more insistently now and for a split second he wondered whether Bill had purposely not let him feel it before. He found he didn’t care when Bill reached inside his jeans and teased him through the thin layer of fabric of his boxer shorts.

“Should we get you out of these? What do you think,” he grinned breathily against Anton’s lips and Anton felt another heat wave coursing through his body and lighting up his cheeks. His heart beat was speeding up.

“Yeah, let’s,” he answered, pushing himself not to back out of this because Bill’s hand felt really good on him and he really wanted to know how it’d feel on other parts on him. And how other parts of Bill would feel on him _there_.

Bill didn’t bother replying verbally, but slowly sunk down onto his knees, his open lips ghosting over Anton’s chest and abdomen. He pulled Anton’s jeans down his legs with sure hands, running them over his skin on his way back up, feeling the muscles underneath it. He leaned forward, mouthing at Anton’s cock through the fabric of his boxers.

Anton couldn’t entirely keep in a surprised gasp at that.

“Oh God,” he whispered and from the way Bill’s lips shifted, he supposed he was grinning. His hands clenched into fists at his side when Bill’s trailed up his thighs under the wide fabric of his shorts. He had never had any qualms about clutching at a girl’s head when she had been in this position, but this whole scenario was new enough for him that he didn’t want to presume.

Bill pressed his tongue against the fabric and raked his nails down Anton’s skin, pulling another gasp from him. Seemingly liking the reaction, he did it again. Anton’s fists twitched at his sides and he screwed his eyes shut, hoping to keep out at least the visual of what was happening at his feet.

“Why are you holding back?” Bill asked, dropping his hands to lightly hang on to Anton’s knees.

“I don’t…” Anton started, opening his eyes and looking down at Bill, feeling yet another blush starting to creep up over his cheeks. This was starting to seriously eat away at his ego. What was wrong with him?

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he confessed. All it earned him though was an amused snort and Bill’s shoulders shaking in suppressed laughter.

“You know, it’s really not nice to laugh at someone who’s considering your well being,” Anton pointed out, feeling his eye brows move closer together in irritation. Bill seemed nonplussed by this and merely looked up at Anton with that same predatory grin he had worn on the stairs before.

“Hurt me?” His tone of voice was definitely a little mocking. He moved his hands back up under Anton’s shorts and grabbed onto his ass with a surprisingly strong grip, his nails digging into Anton’s skin, before burying his chin in Anton’s groin (which was not an entirely unpleasant sensation, mind you).

“Considering where I’ve currently got my teeth, I don’t think you’ll be the one doing the hurting,” he challenged and bit down on a piece of the damp cloth, pulling at it with his teeth for emphasis. Never one to back down from a challenge, Anton uncurled his fists and wound one into Bill’s hair, hanging onto it with a little more strength than probably strictly necessary and using the other one to pull his erection out over the waist band of his boxers that hang low on his hips.

“Do your worst then,” he grinned, bouncing that challenge ball right back into Bill’s side of the field.

It had probably simultaneously been his smartest and most stupid move so far this evening (apart from agreeing to this in the first place). Bill raked his nails down over Anton’s ass and the back of his thighs before grabbing on to the hem of his shorts and pulling them down. He pressed a kiss to the inside of one thigh and then looked back up at Anton.

“Sit,” he commanded, placing his hands on Anton’s hips to guide him to the edge of the bed.

“That good?” Anton challenged but willingly followed the slight pressure that pulled him down onto it and reached back, pushing the condoms and lube further up in the direction of his pillows. Bill distractedly pulled his shorts off his feet completely and simply threw them somewhere over his shoulders. With another wicked smile and a very deliberate show of licking his lips, he grabbed Anton’s knees and pushed them apart so he could kneel in between them comfortably.

Then it was like someone had turned on a switch or something and Bill was all business and no play. Not that he looked any less like he was enjoying it, fuck no. Not that Anton was enjoying it any less either; definitely no to that one. There was a hand that pushed one of his legs further outward, testing the limits of Anton’s flexibility, while pointer and middle finger of the second hand slowly teased the underside of his dick and between his balls and Bill’s lips seemed damn set on sucking a hickey into the soft skin on the inside of Anton’s thigh; close enough to his dick that Anton could feel Bill’s hair on it and somehow he had never thought that the maddening tickling could be anything but annoying and yet it sent a strange kind of arousal through him.

“Fuck,” he hissed and reflexively supported his weight on one of his arms, the other brushing hair from Bill’s forehead and holding on to it. Somehow he knew he shouldn’t be surprised that Bill seemed to either have real talent for this sort of thing or a lot of practice (or, maybe, both) and yet he felt his heart miss a beat anyway, before it caught up with the situation and the adrenaline flooding his veins, and took its pace up a notch.

Bill removed his lips from Anton’s leg long enough to lick at his hand before pressing them wetly against the skin again. Apparently though he was already satisfied with the mark he had left and trailed them and his tongue slowly along the skin toward Anton’s crotch. His spit slicked hand wrapped around Anton’s dick easily – fuck, those fingers were long – and slowly pulled at him, sliding up and down the swollen flesh. There was no hurry in his movements and Anton groaned and closed his eyes briefly when he began to understand that Bill would most probably tease him mercilessly.

Bill’s cheek brushed against his own hand and when that was removed and Bill actually rubbed his face against Anton’s cock lightly, he could feel the slightest bit of stubble scratching him and gave an involuntary hiss, his hand tightening in Bill’s hair –to which Bill gave a deep rumble that sounded like…  
Anton did it again, and Bill’s eyes slowly rose to meet his, his mouth still attached to Anton’s skin but otherwise halting in all of his movements. Maybe Anton imagined it, but there seemed to be a slight twitching in the fingers that still clutched the inside of his knee.

He tugged sharply at the black hair and felt goose bumps rush over his skin from the air hitting the wet spot where Bill’s mouth had been. Bill gave a sharp gasp and his eyes fluttered close before opening again to settle on Anton’s. They glittered black in the dimly lit room.

“Sure you wanna do this?” Bill whispered again, but this time it was far more a challenge than an actual concern. Maybe a little bit of a warning but that sounded like a challenge to Anton’s ears in its own right.

“Oh yeah,” he answered and pried Bill’s hand off his erection with his free hand slowly. Bill obediently let his hand be pushed aside and settled it onto the inside of Anton’s thigh instead, the other one smoothly moving down Anton’s leg and mirroring its position on his other thigh.

“You’ve got a pretty mouth,” Anton murmured and it was as much a taunt as it was a compliment, as he ran his thumb over Bill’s bottom lip, at the same time loosening his hold on Bills hair a little. Bill sucked the digit into that ‘pretty mouth’ and twirled his tongue around it – God, there was that piercing again – in a way that made Anton sure that there had to be a gene for that kind of twisting to be possible.

When he pulled his thumb out again, Bill hollowed his cheeks and _sucked_ , resisting the withdrawal with a cocky raise of an eye brow. It made Anton’s dick twitch in anticipation. Anton drew a wet path over Bill’s cheek before he pushed his thumb against Bill’s bottom lip again to pry his mouth open. He complied.

Shifting forward a little, Anton pushed his cock up against Bills open lips. Bill hummed a little and let his eyes slide shut, hollowing his cheeks again and sucking Anton in ruthlessly. Anton was sure it was at least partly for show, but that didn’t lessen the effect it had on him. Resting part of his weight on his arm again, he felt his eyes slide shut involuntarily for a moment. And then Bill just stopped, save for the occasional twitch of his tongue that told of the concentration it cost him to be doing this.

Anton dragged his eyes back open and met Bill’s gaze head on. For a moment they seemed to be at an impasse until Anton remembered how they had gotten here in the first place and tightened his hold on Bill’s hair again, pulling him off of his flesh a little. Bill’s eye lids fluttered and Anton could feel the stuttering breath he released on his skin and in the way all his facial muscles seemed to twitch shortly.

Ignoring the way that somehow made him feel like he wanted to pinch Bill’s cheeks, or ruffle his hair or tap his nose with a finger, Anton rocked his hips slightly instead. Bill let him, pressing his tongue against Anton in his mouth, tightening his lips. His gaze was holding Anton’s as well as it could from behind heavy lids.

“Shit,” Anton cursed under his breath. He felt a little like a helpless rodent being hypnotized by the deadly snake even though it was his hand that held Bill’s head in position, his cock that slid in and out of Bill’s mouth. Still there was something unmistakably teasing underneath all the pleasure that sparkled in Bill’s black-rimmed eyes and it made Anton’s blood boil with a bit more than just desire. But he was determined not to back down.

He loosened his grip on the black hair and smoothed Bill’s bangs from his face in a gesture that was far too tender for this context before leaning back and supporting himself with both his arms now, smiling down at the boy between his legs. He hoped his smirk conveyed the message that he would take anything Bill had to dish out.

It seemed it did, as Bill’s hands left their position on Anton’s thighs, one sliding up to roam over his belly and chest, the other one reaching down to toy with Anton’s balls. He pressed his tongue to the underside of Anton’s cock, moving up and down on it a little. Bill made a pleased little sound at Anton’s sped up breathing and the vibrations took Anton by surprise and made one of his arms give out.

Bill’s mouth slipped off of Anton’s cock at that, his lips pressing almost sweet kisses to the head while his fingers danced in between his ball’s, flitting over his perineum and sending little jolts of electricity through Anton’s body. His other hand fanned out over Anton’s ribs, his thumb rubbing the skin in an almost soothing manner, bringing Anton closer to the edge and keeping him from it at the same time.

Bill hummed his contentment.

“I could do this for a really long time,” he stated in a low voice, his lips brushing over Anton’s sensitized skin as they moved.

“I can’t,” Anton admitted before he had even fully grasped the thought, his hands clenching in the bedding instinctively. Bill didn’t laugh but Anton felt himself flush anyway. Bill’s hands reached for his legs again though and he pressed a filthy open-mouthed kiss to the head of Anton’s cock before pushing himself up off the floor.

“Lie back then,” he said sotto voce, an almost abashed smile coming to his face. “I don’t think I want to wait until you’re ready for round two.”

Anton just blocked out all the thoughts that sentence made rush through his brain and did as Bill had asked of him, scooting up to rest his head on his pillow (which he normally SLEPT on), making sure not to lie on the packet of lube and the condom.

The bedside lamp shed a low, yellowish sort of light that threw soft shadows over Bill as he hooked his fingers into the waist band of his boxer briefs and pulled them down. There was probably no use trying to keep the nervousness out of his expression, Bill must have known anyway. Still, Anton tried and he was glad Bill didn’t comment in case he failed.

Instead he just climbed onto the bed, the three stars laid into each other shifting over his sharp hip bone, and crawled up over Anton, straddling his waist and leaning down to affectionately brush their noses together. Anton automatically answered his smile and felt some of the tension leave him.

“Um, usually it’s better for the more experienced person to… um, top,” Bill explained slowly, watching Anton’s face closely for a reaction. “But I really don’t want to freak you out so you’ll just have to be really careful, okay?”

Anton merely nodded, not really trusting his voice at the moment. He felt a wave of relief wash over him at Bill’s words. Not that the idea of Bill taking him didn’t hold a certain appeal, but it also held quite a bit of threat.

“Okay,” Bill breathed, kissing him quickly, before sitting up and reaching for the lube. He tore the packet open and reached for one of Anton’s hands.

“We’re gonna do this together so I can make sure it’s … enough.” Anton could swear Bill blushed slightly at that. “Also so you’ll know what to do next time, yeah?”

Grinning at him a little wickedly, Bill pushed some of the clear gel out of the packet and onto Anton’s fingers, using his own to spread it, efficiently coating both their fingers in it.

“Hold this,” he instructed and pushed the rest of the lube into Anton’s free hand, using his own to hold his weight, as he lowered his body over Anton’s. Their gazes locked as Bill guided their lube covered hands behind himself and broke only when Bill’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment.

“You.. um… just spread a little of the lube around it first,” Bill instructed and this time Anton was sure that there was a flush spreading out over his cheeks. He could feel it mirrored on his own and let his fingers search for the little puckered hole without comment. It was a strange sensation, touching him there and then again it really wasn’t that strange at all. It basically felt like skin and that really wasn’t all that different from the rest of Bill.

Bill’s breathing flattened a little at Anton’s touch and Anton felt a sudden surge of heat rush through him, reminding him that his cock still stood proud with arousal. As if sensing it, Bill sought out his eyes again and gave a tiny nod.

“Okay, you can… push in a little,” he allowed, only to add hurriedly, “But slowly!”

So Anton did and for the first time was rather glad that his fingers were more on the knobby, slender side than the firm and thicker side. The feeling of Bill’s muscles giving way to his intruding finger was something altogether different from all his previous sexual experiences. His eyes flitted over Bill’s face, seeing but not really taking in the way his teeth worried his bottom lips and his eyes fell closed and re-opened at the sensation. Instead he concentrated on pushing as slowly and steadily as he could, until he couldn’t go any further and stopped.

Bill shifted a little when he did, his muscles clenching around Anton’s finger involuntarily, making Anton gasp in surprise. His eyes collided with Bill’s without him realizing that he had sought them out and Bill’s tongue flitted out to wet his lips quickly.

“Now push in and out until it gets easier then add a second finger,” Bill breathed, his ass twitching a little when Anton began the movement. He couldn’t have said whether it took Bill long or not long at all to loosen up around him enough for him to push in a second finger. His sense of time had deserted him and instead he felt a strange sort of marvel fill him up. He felt completely detached and completely rooted into his body at the same time.

“Okay, I’ll do the third,” Bill announced, his head hanging lower and his voice tight before Anton felt his finger slide in alongside his own two, both of them pushing in and out of Bill in a slow rhythm. Bill’s breath came in shorter intervals now, ghosting hotly over Anton’s skin and speeding up his own breathing in turn.

It must have been some sort of reflex (a very lucky reflex as it turned out) that had his fingers curling inside Bill and coming into contact with a soft… _something_ that had Bill gasping for air and his arm giving out under him, making his face slam down half into Anton’s shoulder, half into the cushion.

“Fuck,” he cursed and suddenly there was a forth finger in there with the other three and Anton could feel Bill’s fingers speed up.

“Prostate,” Bill gasped an explanation. “Remember that.”

Anton curled his fingers again, only slightly brushing the nub and earning himself a heart-felt groan.

“Don’t tease now,” Bill reprimanded, but his voice was too breathless and his words held no heat. Still, Anton went back to the original in and out motion, matching Bill’s rhythm.

“Try spreading your fingers,” he instructed and buried his face into Anton’s neck for a moment. Anton did and was surprised to find that the muscles really gave way to his fingers.

“Fuck, I don’t – ” a gasp cut him off “ – I don’t want to wait.”

Bill’s hips rocked against their fingers now, dragging his cock over Anton’s stomach. Anton couldn’t really help himself and bucked his hips up, trying to get some of that friction where he really, really wanted it. Bill pushed down against him, his quickened breath hitting Anton’s neck hot and moist, before he pushed himself up.

“Okay. Okay, stop,” Bill breathed, sitting up. Anton withdrew his fingers as slowly as he could manage and automatically reached for the condom that was lying somewhere next to him. Bill grinned his appreciation and took the packet of lube from him, scooting further down Anton’s legs to allow him to roll the condom onto his erection. Somewhere in his peripheral vision Anton saw that Bill’s other arm was still twisted around himself and his hand had picked up the movement again.

The next step was rather obvious too as Bill thrust the packet of lube at him, his eyes hooded and his hips rocking back onto his own fingers. Anton pushed the rest of the clear gel out onto his hand and spread it over his covered cock. Bill smiled at him shakily as he pushed his hands aside and crawled forward.

“Try to keep you hands to yourself,” he instructed and reached back behind himself for Anton’s cock. For a moment Anton was sure that no amount of preparation could ever be enough for this as he felt the head of his erection press against Bill, but then Bill reigned his breathing back in into more controlled, even and deeper breaths and slowly sunk down onto him and Anton suddenly understood why Bill wanted him to keep his hands to himself.

The feeling of being enveloped so tightly and hotly made him buck upward instinctively and he barely managed to press out a “sorry”, before he pushed one of his fists into his mouth, biting down on it in an attempt to control himself.

The breathy noise Bill made might have been a laugh.

Bill sank lower onto him in slow rocking motions, going back up for every half inch he sank down only to go lower on his return, until Anton was completely sheathed inside of him. Anton felt his jaw tremble from the tension when Bill reached for both his hands and gently placed them on his thighs.

“Just let me get used to this a little,” he asked and braced his own hands on Anton’s chest, lifting his hips a little and rocking back down slowly. Anton watched the way Bill’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down whenever he swallowed, the way his chest expanded and his belly fluttered from his quickened breath and the way the black ink shifted over his too-sharp hip bone. The eye-liner was smudging around the edges.

When Bill clenched his muscles around him, Anton felt the groan that was pulled out of him in the tips of his toes. A small grin spread on Bill’s lips at that and his eyes closed. Seeing as Bill’s rhythm had picked up in tempo, Anton allowed his hands to travel up his thighs, reaching his hips.

“Can I?” he asked, the sound of his own voice suddenly surprising him.

“Yeah,” Bill only breathed, leaning forward a little more, changing the angle. So Anton lifted Bill a little, when he went up and then pulled him down, meeting his hips with an upward thrust of his own. Bill let him take over the rhythm, shifting his hips slightly, as if searching for a certain angle. Anton wondered for a moment before he remembered and when Bill hissed out a _“yes!”_ he was pretty sure that they had found the prostate and Anton tried keeping that exact angle.

Bill raked his nails down Anton’s chest and clenched his ass in a show of appreciation or just as an immediate reaction to the pleasure. Either way, Anton echoed his moans and thrust his hips up more insistently. He could feel his orgasm approaching, his hips stuttering and trying to escape the rhythm he forced on them, his thrusts sharp and edgy.

“Come on, come on,” he murmured, looking up at Bill’s flushed form, catching his eye. Bill must have seen something in his eyes, because he lifted one of his hands to his mouth and started sucking on two of his fingers rather obscenely.

Anton groaned in response and tried closing his eyes against the spectacle, but Bill vindictively twisted one of his nipples and forced his eyes back open. His second hand had reached for his own cock, pulling and twisting in pursuit of his own orgasm, probably knowing full well that it pushed Anton closer as well.

Still it almost took him by surprise when all the heat spread throughout his body suddenly seemed to rush towards his center. His hands tightened almost out of reflex on Bill’s hips and he gasped out his name as his orgasm overtook him like a sports car on the high way. His spine arched and he felt himself lift up off the mattress a little, the rhythm of his hips faltering and slowing, his world going white for a moment, before it returned with the vision of Bill still writhing above him.

“Please,” he whispered and Anton surged up, pulling him in with a hand on the nape of his neck and clashing their mouths together. Bill moaned into his mouth and Anton could feel his hand moving more insistently between them. He looped Bill’s other arm around his own neck and then reached down with both hands, one joining Bill’s, the other winding around him and tracing the skin of Bill’s anus where it was still stretched around Anton’s softening cock.

He slid lower, pushing his finger beneath Bill and finding his perineum.

“Fuck!” Bill hissed, with feeling, wrenching his mouth free from Anton’s and instead latching onto his shoulder, rocking back and forth into his ministrations.

“Close… Anton…” Bill gasped, his voice cracking on Anton’s name. Anton sped up the movement of his hand and suddenly felt Bill rear against him, his orgasm pulsing through him and spilling over both their stomachs and hands. His hips rocked a little, riding it out, his mouth moving lazily against Anton’s shoulder.

“This was far better than anything I’d hoped for this evening,” Bill confided, a grin staining his voice when he had caught his breath again. Anton chuckled low in his throat, using his clean hand to lift Bill up a bit. Getting the signal Bill knelt up, letting Anton’s deflated cock slip free from inside him.

“Thanks, I guess,” Anton answered and stretched to reach for the box of Kleenex he still kept in his bedside table for moments like this. He handed one to Bill and wiped himself down quickly before slipping off the condom, tying it and deciding that it could just fall to the floor and wait there till he threw it away tomorrow.

He fell back into the cushions, a satisfied grin spreading out over his face as the realization of what he had just done slowly caught up with him. Bill lay down next to him, propping himself up on one elbow, leaning his face into his hand. He had the look of one well-fucked – the mussed hair, the swollen mouth, the smeared make-up – but he looked completely at ease, peering down at Anton curiously.

“You’re not gonna throw me out, are you?” he asked.

“What? No,” Anton replied, stretching against the fatigue that set in. Nothing like a good show and some sex for the world’s best sleep.

“Good,” Bill yawned and climbed over Anton, bending down and reaching for his boxer briefs, presenting Anton with a rather favourable view. Grinning, he reached out to pinch one of his ass cheeks, earning himself a disgruntled sound from Bill. But as he didn’t do anything else, Anton let his hand slide up to the small of his back and over his sides, where two or three little yellow marks started blooming.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked as Bill sat back up and Bill frowned at him for a moment, slightly confused before looking down to where Anton’s hand rested against his hip.

“Nah, I just bruise pretty easily,” he replied then and folded his endless legs into the tiny piece of black fabric, before lying down next to Anton, wriggling around until he was buried underneath the covers.

“Suddenly shy?” Anton teased. Bill stuck his tongue out at him.

“No, I just don’t like sleeping naked. I get cold.”

“And you won’t like this?” Anton asked back, raising a disbelieving eye brow. Bill shrugged.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Bill explained. Anton grinned at him like he would a little child.

“Of course it is,” he gave back, but reached for his own pajamas that were buried somewhere beneath the covers. He slipped on the shorts and dropped the t-shirt onto Bill’s face.

“So you won’t get cold,” he grinned and could see in Bill’s narrowing eyes that he only barely resisted the temptation to stick out his tongue at him again. But he grinned too and slipped on the t-shirt that was a little loose on Anton but seemed far more so on him.

“You’re a sweetheart, really,” Bill diagnosed and captured Anton’s lips in a slow kiss, before snuggling into the cushion and closing his eyes, obviously retiring for the night.

“You’re really strange,” Anton stated, staring at the black patches that were (mostly) Bill’s eye lids.

“So I’ve been told,” Bill replied, smiling, but didn’t bother opening his eyes. So Anton just shook his head, grinning to himself and turned off the light, sinking into the bed next to Bill. He fell asleep far quicker than he would have thought.

\---

When Anton woke, it was because he jolted back from the edge of his bed instinctively. It took his sleep-addled mind a few moments to process this but then he immediately asked himself why the hell he would lie this close to the edge anyway? There was a whole bed behind him.

Except then he rolled over and came face to face with Bill. Right.

Smiling to himself a little, he reached out one hand in order to brush a strand of hair out of Bill’s face. And if that happened to wake him, well… Anton had only wanted him to be comfortable. Letting his fingers slide over Bill’s skin more than they really had to, Anton waited for Bill to stir. It seemed he wouldn’t though.

Instead the sound of the front door opening, a dog barking and a man shouting something rang through the house. Burglars would most probably not be stupid enough to do that and Duke didn’t like strangers. Which meant that his parents were home early.

Anton froze in shock, his fingers still in Bill’s hair. This could not be happening. It was though, his mind was telling him and then there was that one step on the stairs that tended to creak and oh my God the condom still lay on the floor!

Shooting out of bed, Anton grabbed it and quickly dropped it into the waste basket under his desk before whirling around and trying to catch his mother or father in the hall. And of course that had been enough to rouse Bill, who started shifting around on the bed.

Maybe he could hide him from his parents and somehow smuggle him out the house without them noticing?

He got as far as the door and when he pulled it open, he came face to face with his mother who smiled widely at him, seemingly wanting to yell “surprise!”. Instead her eyes automatically zeroed in on Bill, who had rolled over onto his stomach and was slowly pushing himself up, his hair obscuring most of his face and the blanket slowly slipping from his shoulders. Maybe she hadn’t realized…

Anton took a quick step forward and shut the door behind him.

“Hi, mom. You’re early,” he stated the obvious.

“You have… company,” she stated it right back.

“Um..” Anton said, because, damn it, now he couldn’t hide Bill from them anymore. He felt himself flush a little and was eternally grateful for his mother steering away from the topic.

“We’re back!” she announced and spread out her arms a little. Anton laughed at her and hugged her anyway.

“Welcome home. How was your trip?”

“Good at first but then the weather got terrible and we thought we’d really rather spend the rest of our holiday at home. But I’ll tell you about that later. You just… come down when you’re ready, yeah?” she smiled and pecked him on the cheek before turning around and leaving him alone outside the door. Anton took a deep breath before stepping back into his room.

“Morning,” Bill greeted him, smiling, sitting on Anton’s bed like this was where he always sat, the blanket pooling around his hips.

“Morning,” Anton smiled back and sat down onto the edge of the bed, flopping back so his head came to rest close to Bill’s knees.

“You kinda look like a panda,” he informed him, even though he was pretty sure Bill knew. The annoyed sigh Bill heaved told him as much.

“Does your mom have anything I can use to change that?” he only asked though, not letting the irritation bleed into his voice too much.

“Sure,” Anton gave back and then felt himself fidget.

“About that…” he started and looked up at Bill, who just raised an interested eyebrow.

“My parents came home early. And they don’t exactly know I like guys as well, so…”

Bill shrugged.

“Sure. It’s not like I’m your secret boyfriend and have been trying to get you to fess up for ages,” he grinned. Anton grinned back, pinching Bill’s knee.

“While we’re on secrets,” Bill continued, his expression closing in on itself. “This has got to stay one anyway. Or at least the who-I-am-part. Not that I couldn’t make it so that no one believes you, but I really wouldn’t want to have to do that to you.” Bill’s eyes said the silent _rest assured I would, though_ more clearly than even the words themselves could probably have.

“Record label doesn’t let you?” Anton asked, not really meaning for it to sound so mocking. Bill’s face hardened a little more, but his gaze bore down into Anton’s unwaveringly.

“When music is your _job_ as well as your life, a whole lot of things change,” he said and Anton had no idea what that was supposed to mean but it kind of stung and he dropped it anyway. Bill pulled his legs out underneath him and slid off the bed, reaching for his socks and pulling them back on before stepping back into his jeans.

Anton felt he should probably apologize – even if he wasn’t entirely sure what for – but the words somehow died in his throat and he watched Bill bend over and scoop up his t-shirt and jacket. What came out instead of an apology was,

“Did you really sleep with your brother?”

Bill snorted in amusement and turned back to look at him.

“Where did that come from?” he asked, walking back to the bed to drop his clothes onto it, pulling Anton’s sleep-shirt over his head and dropping it onto the pillow while Anton shrugged.

“Dunno. You said you did. Was that just to rile me up? Yesterday? I’m curious.”

“If you tell anyone, I’ll probably have to destroy you,” Bill informed him, pulling his own t-shirt over his head. There was no heat or actual threat in his words and that probably made them stronger.

“Anyway, no, I haven’t. We’ve made out and there was a blowjob but that’s it.”

“That’s kinda twisted,” Anton felt the need to point out. He didn’t have any siblings and somehow (shockingly) Bill’s admission didn’t really surprise him but still… it wasn’t exactly normal, was it, to fool around with your brother.

“Maybe,” Bill shrugged. “But look, we’re not hurting anyone, yeah? So whatever.”

Deciding this was yet another conversation for another time, Anton reached for Bill’s hand and tugged until Bill relented and crawled on top of him, straddling his waist and leaning down for a lazy kiss.

“Wanna do something about that panda look of yours now?” Anton asked when Bill pulled back slightly.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he grinned and pushed himself upright, extending an arm for Anton to grasp and pulling him up.

“Wait, I’ll change first,” Anton stopped him and Bill leant against the shut door, watching Anton rummage through his closet. The shorts flew over his back onto the bed and not a minute later Anton was fully dressed.

“You’re quick,” Bill commented.

“You were too.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t have a choice.”

“You could borrow some of my clothes, if you wanted,” Anton offered, but Bill smiled and shook his head.

“Thanks anyway. Make-up’s really all I need,” he said and Anton shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘suit yourself’ and led him across the hallway into his parent’s bath room.

“Mom’s make up stuff is over there,” he explained, pointing at a little cabinet. “I’m guessing you know what to do.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Bill replied and set to work. Anton sat down on the edge of the bathtub and watched as Bill easily and efficiently cleaned the rest of the make-up out of his face. If this was something the label made him do, he obviously didn’t use a stylist all the time. The routine of doing this was visible in each of his precise movements.

“Hey, you think I could use this?” Bill asked, holding up a box of Anton’s mother’s eye shadow and something that Anton guessed was either mascara or eyeliner.

“Sure, go ahead,” Anton allowed. Bill smiled at him and dusted his eye lids in dark grey-ish powder and painted his lashes even darker.

“So, do I get your number?” Anton asked before he could change his mind, when Bill had turned away from him to put everything back. He turned back to look at him, an interested eye brow raised.

“Do you want it?”

“Would I ask if I didn’t?”

“Fair enough,” Bill shrugged and then nodded.

“Sure. I’ll give you my email too; I won’t be in the States for that much longer. But I’ll come back at some point. For the tour the latest. You can come watch me perform,” he grinned. Anton smiled back.

“We should go say hi to my parents. They’re probably getting funny ideas,” he then said, his smile shifting into a more sheepish one. Bill laughed a little at that.

“I should probably go anyway,” he offered and Anton nodded and pushed himself up off the bath tub, stepping out of the bath room.

“I’ll just go grab my jacket,” Bill announced and took a few long steps across the hallway back into Anton’s room with far more confidence than Anton would have probably had in a house he just saw in daylight for the first time.

“So what do we tell you parents?” Bill asked, quietly, pulling on his jacket when they hopped down the stairs side by side. Anton just shrugged.

“I dunno. I wanted to tell them about me being bisexual anyway, I just never thought I’d go “Hi, mom and dad, this is Bill, I fucked him last night ‘cause I like guys”, you know?”

“I can guess,” Bill grinned. “Leave the talking to me then and tell then when I’m gone. They’re gonna suspect anyway and it’ll probably be more comfortable for them to talk to you about it without me there, too.”

Anton only had time to nod, before his mother spotted them and waved them into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” she greeted them with a smile.

“Morning, Mrs. Yelchin,” Bill greeted back, reaching out a hand towards her. “I’m Bill, I met Anton at his show yesterday. My brother kind of kicked me out of our apartment yesterday and your son offered me to stay with him for the night. I’m afraid we stayed up way past either of our bed times.”

Anton couldn’t tell the precise moment his mother was charmed, but by the end of Bill’s little speech, she had reached for his hand and shaken it warmly.

“Will you stay for some brunch?” she invited him, but Bill politely shook his head a little.

“I’d love to, but I should really get home.”

“Oh, well the next time then, yes?”

“Gladly. It was nice meeting you,” Bill smiled.

“You too,” she smiled back

“I’ll show him out,” Anton said and steered Bill out of the kitchen back to the front door.

“You are a gentleman and a scholar. And a most gifted bullshitter,” he grinned and watched as Bill bent down to step into his boots.

“What?” Bill laughed.

“It’s a line from one of my movies,” Anton explained as Bill straightened up again.

“Which one?”

“ _Fierce People_. You should read the book too, though, it kicks ass.”

“Sounds…” Bill trailed off, his eye brows rising and his face spelling out exactly what his words couldn’t.

“It is,” Anton grinned and moved to unlock and open the door as Bill slipped on his jacket.

“I’ll call you, yeah?” he said, looking up at Bill who had stepped up next to him.

“Yeah,” Bill grinned and leaned down to steal a quick kiss before slipping out the door. He turned around to wave at Anton, walking a few steps backwards and yelling a “see you!” before turning back around and fishing his mobile out of his pocket. Probably to call a taxi, as he had no clue where he was, Anton realized.

Anton shut the door and found his mother standing behind him, eying him amusedly.

“Anything you’d like to tell me?” she asked.

“First I need coffee,” Anton declared, running a hand through his curls. His mother laughed and hooked an arm through his, dragging him into the kitchen.

“But then you tell me everything,” she insisted.

“Believe me, mom, you really don’t want to know.”

“You didn’t stay up talking, did you?”

“No, mom.”

“Good. If you had, I might have been disappointed; he’s very pretty.”

“Mom!”

**The End**


End file.
